


Breath of Life

by Audriss



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Little Bit of Everything, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Build, Some Humor, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:31:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3807052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Audriss/pseuds/Audriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was happy a moment ago, and now she didn't know how long she had to live. Or if she was alive at all, and this was just some trick to make her believe she still had hope. Why didn't he come to save her? Was it because they had fought? Did he even care? Did he even know how much she cared?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If I Laugh

**Author's Note:**

> I am trying to write this as an experiment on a human mind. We saw glimpses of it on the show, but I do realize that there are things they cannot really show on television, even if the show is about the dead walking the earth.
> 
> Slow burn, because I have a lot of episodes to cover, because this starts in the beginning, and even before that.

Darkness.

It surrounded her as she lay on the cold concrete floor. 

Cold that seeped through the sheet she barely had wrapped around her was almost unbearable. She shifted herself and whimpered softly when the metal of the handcuffs scraped yet again over the cuts and bruises of her wrists.

Her long brown hair was a mess and falling down over her bare shoulders and spread wildly on the floor. She had a healing scar on her right cheek and another on her lower lip, making it swollen and throbbing. There was a piece of fabric that was stuffed into her mouth and tied behind the back of her neck, making her head tilt down in an odd and painful angle. Her lips were chapped, bloody, and there was a trickle of dried blood staining the pale skin of her neck. She couldn’t have wiped it off. It had just run freely down from the wound of her cheek and from her lip. Despite the gag, and the dryness of her mouth, she could still feel the metallic taste her own blood in her mouth. Her cheek was swollen, her right eye seemed to be throbbing and the headache she had received from that blow against her cheek bone was least of her pains.

She could hardly feel her toes, as she shivered on the concrete floor. Her fingers were equally cold, almost as numb too. The sheet didn’t do much to warm her up, and neither did the fact that she hadn’t eaten in quite some time now.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been, but it was days. Too long a time. She shuddered as she turned onto her side, and cried muffled against the gag. Her shoulder was bruised and it hurt to feel her weight rest on it. There was pain, a jolt of gnawing pain, running through her, when her back came to contact with the cold air. The wounds that littered her upper back, over her shoulder blades, over her shoulders and extending to her neck. She had tried to fight back, and she had received a prompt punishment. 

Her eyes fluttered in the dark, trying to focus on something, anything, but it was pointless. The room was utterly dark, no light source what so ever could be found, and she couldn’t see where she was. There were no sounds, no light, no nothing; just the dark and cold that wouldn’t relent their hold of her body. For the hundredth time she wished she would just die. And for the same amount of times she had been denied that sweet relief of death where she could feel no pain, fear or cold.

Hell.

She had always thought that Hell would be a hot place. She chuckled awkwardly at her own foolish thought, and whimpered out loud the next second, as her ribs reminded them being broken, and badly bruised. As she shifted more, she felt the heavy metal shackle and chain attached to her ankles restrict the movement of her feet. She shivered yet again and groaned. 

What ever this place was, it was Hell for her. She didn’t even know how she had gotten in there. She didn’t even know if she was ever going to get out. All she did remember was that her family had been brutally murdered, and she had been taken as a capture not too long after the world had gone Hell in a hand basket.


	2. A Not So Shiny Knight In Dirty Clothes

_Run_ , was the only thought she had in her mind as she weaved through the trees and bushes. She screeched when she felt a thorny branch of some bush to scratch her bare arm. She felt something wet on her skin, realizing that the thorns had drawn blood. Her black pants were worn and scratched with several rips and holes and her once white top, no more or less grey and other wise dirty, was now ripped badly and barely hanging on one shoulder strap. She cursed and made a mental note that she needed to stop by at any store that had clothes.

There were still at least two of the dead after her and she didn’t have enough time to ponder about her clothing problem. The groan of one of the walking corpses grew louder as it was gaining on her from behind. They were now all riled up, reaching at her with their bony, grey and decaying fingers. The other corpse was still further away, but she knew it would soon be gaining on her. She ran around the tree, and reached for her knife that hung on a sheath on her belt. Circling around the tree and behind the dead she delivered a blow straight into the skull and grit her teeth together as she heard the horrible crunching sound that followed. The disgusting liquid of brain, intestines and coagulated blood burst out, when she pulled the knife off of the skull and turned to look for the second dead corpse. Before she knew there were cold, sickly hands clutching her arm and throat as it leaned closer to take a bite out of her neck, she screamed out loud and spun the creature around, slamming it against a tree trunk. The muscles in her arms screamed for mercy but this was a fight to the death, and she wasn’t about to give in. Well knowing that it would take a step closer to a miracle for her actually to crush the corpse’s skull against the tree and be rid of it, she did it anyways. One, two, three hits and she began sobbing as the corpse still growled and moaned ready to rip her into pieces. Four, five, six hits and she was almost done, ready to give up and let it be done with it. She let go of the corpse, taking a step back, gasping for air, and wiping the tears from her hazy eyes.

Two steps backwards, she tripped onto a large branch and the corpse fell onto her, ready to eat her alive. 

There was a sound of splat, and the corpse fell down, limb on top of her. She screamed, but suddenly the dead, this time permanently, was lifted off of her. 

“Didn’t ya mama never teach ya how to treat girlies?” she heard someone growl out loud with a deep voice and even deeper southern accent. 

She clambered up, her fingers clawing the ground, searching for something to defend herself with. If people had to worry about the corpses walking the earth, it was also the least of the worries for any female still alive and kicking. Men had completely tainted back to the caveman stage of their evolution and she had learned it the hard way. 

“Hey, don’t worry, I ain’t gonna eat you,” the man said, with a lewd smirk and she knew he would, if she was willing. And even if she wasn’t.

“Get away from me!” she growled, and backed off, finally managing to get up from the ground.

“Relax,” he chuckled, his hand resting on his belt buckle as he kept grinning at her, “What’s a lil’ girly like ya doing all alone in ‘re?” he asked, looking all pleased with himself as he had knifed the walker that was about to eat _the perdy prinzess_ he’d found.

“Trying to get the hell away from people and corpses,” she growled, crouching lower as she picked up a thick branch fallen from a tree and held it up like a club.

“My, my, aren’t you a feisty one. I like feisty girlies.”

“In your dreams buddy!” she spat out and lifted the branch up higher, ready to take a swing if he so much as took a step towards her. 

He burst into laughter, and winked. Sure thing, he’d had his fair share of those dreams but they usually involved with some druggie bitch from what ever strip joint he could find them from, not anything like this lil’ titty queen here. He practically was praying – even though he sure as hell never would have admit it – for that other strap of her top to snap right off. 

“So, ya alone here?” he asked, changing the subject vocally even though with his eyes he was all but slamming her against the tree and having her squirm and writhe underneath him until she was begging him to stop. She shuddered at the look in his eyes and he knew exactly that she had seen that gleam in them.

“What’s it to you?” 

“Well, tryna offer you to come to our camp if ya wanna be alone no more,” he said shrugging casually.

She frowned, staring at him, and clearly disbelieving anything he’d said. It made him scowl. Looking the way he did it wasn’t that easy to convince the survivors, female or male, that the camp he got was actually quite safe, despite being lead by a gun wielding moron of a Deputy.

“We got women, kids, men,” he said, shrugging his shoulders again, trying to play it cool, “But suit ya’self, Tiny,” he said, dropping in a word he’d probably never used before. He’d sure love to see that Titty Queen follow him to the camp, and if he managed to play his cards right into his tent. For a while, that is.

“Trust me, I’m a harder piece to chew if you’re screwing with me,” she hissed, and her eyes burned with anger and hatred. 

“Can do the screwin’ right here, if ya up for it,” he said, bursting into roaring laughter right after he’d said it.

“Like I said, in your dreams,” she reiterated and a tiny smirk spread on her lips. 

“What’s ya name, Sugar Tits?” he asked, not even bothering to hide his wanton desire. It made her frown again, and even shudder out of disgust, but then, she scoffed replying, “Ava Dexter. Yours?”

“Name’s Merle,” he said, “Merle Dixon.”

* * *

Not so charming Merle Dixon, one of the worst rednecks Ava had the pleasure to meet, had brought her into the camp at dusk. The moment she stepped into the clearing there had been a three guns and a crossbow aimed at her head making her stop to her tracks and stare at the barrel of a Remington 700 rifle, held by an older man with a fisherman’s hat. She blinked only once, but her face betrayed no emotion what so ever. Getting emotional around weapons usually got people killed faster, and she had been around a fair share of weaponry as of late. Two seconds later Dixon had stepped out from the bushes and burst into laughter, raising his hands up in the air as a mark of a pretentious surrender.

The crossbow was the first to lower down, then the two smaller handguns followed by the Remington riffle. 

Ava had been tense, rigid even, the whole walk from where the Dixon fellow had found her to the campsite at the quarry where he had lead her to, ready to fight her way through what ever she would be up against once they would reach the camp, and the weapons shoved at her face didn’t help. She was still tense, looking around like a rabbit in the headlights.

Then, a man, presumably their leader of some sort, with dark hair, brandishing a Mossberg 590 shotgun, and police uniform blue shirt, black cargo pants and heavy leather boots walked up to her, glaring down at her like she was a gnat of some sort, bugging the hell out of him. Ava caught him eyeing at her, from head to toe, stopping at her chest and then at the ripped off strap of her top. She allowed it, not wanting to create an image of her that would eventually work against her. 

“Merle? Who is this?”

“Cousin Tiny, from Texas,” Merle said, licking his lips as he poked his thumb towards Ava. The Cop motioned him to the side, few steps away from Ava and the four men that were still loitering about her. 

Several glares were thrown at Ava and not all of them were friendly.

A tall, gangly fellow stared at her as he was leaning against an RV further away. Few women that were washing clothes next to the RV gawked at her and stopped what they were doing. Two women near by a fire that apparently worked as some sort of a cooking station had stood up and were now dribbling slowly towards them. So, as she looked around she realized that the Redneck had spoken the truth; there were women and children – playing near by – at the campsite too. 

A tall, burly black man and a slender Asian boy stared at her as her gaze slowly moved over to them. Both of them granting a simultaneous smile at her, making her raise an eyebrow, and then bite her cheek. It was dangerous to get close to people, especially when she didn’t know them. 

Her eyes grazed over a young man holding onto a crossbow and found the weapon of his choice rather appropriate. She would have loved to own a weapon like that. It was silent and deadly. 

Her wandering eyes had made a full circle as of then, as she had taken in all that was their small quarry campsite. Yet, instead of relief or joy she felt pity towards these people.

These people had no idea what they were up against. She shook her head to clear out those thoughts. Most likely they did, but playing house at this old abandoned quarry was far better than to huddle in some corner and hope for a quick death. That usually wasn’t the case. It was often way too violent to think of, and that she had thought of way too many times.

“Merle says he saved you from walkers?” the dark haired man asked, sounding like a cop, just as Ava had thought.

“Just the one, I managed to kill rest of them,” Ava grunted, eyeing at him in return like he was that one raspberry seed between one’s teeth. She smacked her lips, as she stood there turning her gaze towards the distance. 

“Good for you. You got a group around here?” he said unfazed by her tone of voice. 

Carefully without giving away that she was actually looking at him, she surveyed the weapon that was now casually thrown over his shoulder. It was too heavy to be flung against her she calculated and relaxed a bit. Maybe these people weren’t so bad for now. She could use some company. Maybe they had enough supplies to share with her and after a while she could make her exit. 

“Ya got a tent with ya, Tiny?” Merle’s voice reached her ears and she turned to look at the Redneck by her side, “Cos I’m sure we could share,” he added bursting into a cackling laughter and Ava wanted to slap him hard across his face. 

“Not even if you were the last man on earth,” she cringed and turned her attention back to the Cop. Before either of them got to continue their conversation, Merle chuckled, and slapped Ava’s ass, “It might just come to that!” He walked off before the feisty brunette had a chance to reply. She jumped at the touch of his palm slapping hard against her backside. Her foot circled back as she took a quick step away from him, ready to fight if the man was to try anything more.

“Easy, there, Tiny,” the Cop started, reaching forward and grasping her wrist tightly. 

“My name’s Ava, not Tiny,” she sneered, and glared over at Merle, “And I’m not related to that,” she hissed and bobbed her head towards Merle who was now retreating to another fire pit with few lawn chairs thrown on the ground.

“So, Ava,” the Cop replied again, emphasizing her name, trying to look at least part sheepish and apologetic. 

My God, what’s wrong with these people? Did we all land in the dark ages where men were always right? she thought to herself.

“What Merle told me about you and your skills,” he started, “You’re welcome to join the group,” the Cop said, and nodded towards the people, “My name’s Shane Walsh.”

* * *

“Tiny Dixon?” young, Asian man asked as he approached Ava. She sighed deep and annoyed. She definitely needed to correct this behavior as soon as possible. Ava turned to look at the Asian boy. He wore a T-shirt that had once been white, a pair of faded jeans and a dark blue baseball cap with no mentionable markings. He looked harmless and Ava didn’t let herself get nervous when he stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled at her a little, as he looked at her curiously. She was about to explain emphatically that her name wasn’t Tiny, when a blonde girl, no more than 20 or so of age, appeared from behind the Asian man and said with a cheerful tone, “Wow, Tiny Dixon, the redneck names are getting more and more ridiculous by the moment!”

She arched her eyebrows at the girl as she and the Asian man both started to chuckle and snicker. When she granted them a glare of death they quickly settled down and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot as they were feeling increasingly nervous.

“It’s Ava, not Tiny, and certainly not Dixon,” she replied, “It’s Ava Dexter.”

“I’m Glenn, and this is Amy,” the Asian boy said introducing them both. 

“So why does he call you Tiny then?” Amy inquired and looked at Ava with even grander curiosity. There was something playful in her eyes and Ava realized she believed him to have fucked her in the woods. Again she kept herself composed and bit out the answer, “Because he’s a jerk. We are not related in any way. Even though he might have helped me with that corpse,” she hissed.

“We call them walkers,” Glenn said, looking down at his feet. Ava relaxed another notch and smiled at the young man. He didn’t seem so ‘gun-ho Christmas’ as most of the men at the camp. 

Ava nodded, “Right.”

“You got a tent?” he then asked. There was a slight frown on his face, when he quickly looked around the camp and then at the RV.

“No,” Ava answered truthfully, “My tent’s probably somewhere in the I75. I had to make a quick exit, didn’t have enough time to pack it up.”

“Well, I can put it on my list for the next time I have to make run to the town,” Glenn said, “But before that… Well, there’s not many choices.”

“You can share with me,” Amy offered and then added, “And my sister, Andrea.”

Ava looked at the blonde girl, giving her an appreciative smile, but instead of agreeing with her offer, she then shook her head. 

“Look, I appreciate the offer, but the tent has limited space,” Ava then said, “I’m fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to everyone,” Glenn said and Ava followed him and Amy.

“Changed your mind about sharing my tent, yet?” Merle asked, as they passed him, and the younger man she’d seen before, who sat next to him skinning half a dozen of squirrels. The younger man whipped his head towards Merle and then glared at Ava, but said nothing. 

“Daryl can bunk by the fire,” Merle said, not even paying attention to the younger man Ava assumed to be Daryl.

“They’re brothers,” Amy whispered behind Ava, “Scare the daylights out of me.”

Ava looked at the younger man and instantly felt sorry for him. She realized that Merle, being older by several years, was dominant in their interaction as brothers. If he said so, the younger one had no choice but to agree. She turned to look back at Daryl; she saw how his face grew angry and his eyes darkened, and Ava could see that his answer to most of these situations was to handle them with great deal of hostility.

“Fuck you, Merle,” Daryl growled and dropped the squirrels down on Merle’s feet and picked up a crossbow from the ground. 

“Like I said before, Numb Nuts, I wouldn’t sleep with you even if you were the last man on Earth,” Ava replied with angelically devious smile on her lips, and ignored any replies he might have had for her, as she walked briskly past the fire pit and headed to meet the rest of the people. There were four pairs of stunned eyes staring after her. One pair was more than irritated, the other pair was surprisingly amused and then there were Glenn and Amy who stared after Ava stunned of her boldness.

 

* * *

A while later, after meeting everyone and their mother, Ava sat down under a tree crossing her legs and pulling her backpack in front of her, sighing, and opened the straps. Atlanta days were hot and humid, but nights - - nights were tricky. During heat wave even the nights were as scorching as the days, but the nights could also be cold. Her top was ripped and she needed new as soon as possible. Pulling open the backpack she began to lay her clothes and other items on the ground next to her. Two tops, both dirty as hell and in need of a good scrubbing, two pairs of pants, few pairs of socks and underwear, a leather jacket and one zipper-up sweatshirt with a hood. She couldn’t put on any of her clothes that she still had with her. 

She bit her lip. She had left some belongings in her tent and she could have used those. 

Glancing around her, she opened the zipper of the side pocket of her backpack pulling out two more knives to replace the one she had unfortunately lost in the forest fighting the corpses. There was an unloaded weapon in the pocket as well, but it was useless unless she could find ammunition for it. 

She glanced at it and sighed. It was her father’s gun. He’d raised her and her sister to walk with a weapon on their hands, no matter what, and she had always hated it fiercely. Not that being a paranoid conspiracy theorist and former United States Marine scout sniper could have done anything else than teach his two daughters to be equally paranoid conspiracy theorists. Who would have known she would actually be thankful for those skills. 

She frowned at the selection of clothing and sighed again. She could have asked if any of the members of the group had an extra shirt or something, but she was still feeling a bit too outsider to do that. She could ask for needle and thread, and fix the strap the best she could, but she’d need more clothes soon.

Looking to her right, shadowing her eyes from the sun, she tried to search Glenn among the people in the camp. She would need more than just a tent from the city on his next run. 

Still searching for Glenn, she was sitting on the ground and frowning as she tried to think how she would handle the situation, when a shadow was cast over her. She turned to look up, and saw the silhouette of a person standing in front of and looking down at her.

“Merle told me to brin’ ya this,” the person said as she tried to squint her eyes to be able to see who he was. The moment he spoke out loud, she didn’t need to see who it was. It was Merle’s younger brother.

“What is it?” Ava asked, sounding more surprised that she had intended.

Daryl scoffed and tossed something soft down at her feet. Ava turned to look at the item on the ground and before she realized what it was and could thank the man he was gone. 

She picked it up; a greenish brown, clearly freshly washed and patched up sleeveless shirt.


	3. They Are Killing Survivors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia and Ava get separated by force.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before.

People ran past them in panic, as the two sisters crouched on the ground next to their tent. Ava’s head shot up and she looked to her right when someone screamed in agony. When she turned to look at Amelia again, she shoved their father’s gun in her hands and extra clip, as she grabbed her arm, yanked her up.

“You’re gonna go now,” she hissed at her younger sister, and leaned down to pick up a backpack. Her flaming red hair fell over her shoulders and got in her face, and Ava could hear her grumbling about it. When Amelia straightened back up, she had the backpack ready, offering it to her sister, “Turn around. You’ll take this,” she said. Ava was about to protest, but Amelia was faster, “Don’t bitch about this, you’ll need this!” she hissed, grabbing her by her wrist rather painfully and spun her around forcing then the straps of the bag over her arms and to her shoulders.

“Amelia! I can’t leave you!” Ava replied in a weak panicky state. 

“You hear that? That’s the sound of the dead corpses walking this way and God knows how many more will turn into them! I’m not gonna be able to protect you!” Amelia shouted. Someone bumped into her and she just grabbed the person by their neck and shoved them aside. Ava didn’t have enough time to register whether it was a male or a female.

“Protect me?” Ava asked, cocking her eyebrow, “Shit, where the fuck you grew up? I believe I was right along with you when dad took us shooting!” 

“Yeah, but I made a fucking career out of it. You just never wanted to kill anyone,” Amelia said in a cold tone. Her hands were busy with loading two Berettas. She tossed them fully loaded into a smaller bag that slung over her shoulder.

“You made it a career because the judge didn’t give you a choice!” Ava screamed now, trying to reason her sister to understand that separation wasn’t a good idea.

“I made it a choice of a career because I was so damn good at it! I’m a Marine and I need to do something to help those people! It’s my brothers out there trying to beat them corpses down!” 

“You were discharged!” Ava screamed almost in verge of tears.

“Only because my CO didn’t have the balls to admit that I was better than him!” Amelia growled and Ava knew it had been a mistake to mention her discharge. Amelia was indeed discharged by bad conduct. She had never bothered to tell Ava the real details, but definitely not lacking any inquiries from Ava. She knew Amelia still saw every single soldier boy and girl as her brother, sister, brethren, and she felt guilty for not being among them fighting right now.

“What about me? You’re so worried about your brothers over there,” Ava said, bobbing her head towards the sounds of weapons fire and muzzle flames, “But what about me? _I’m your sister!_ You can’t just tell me to go and think it’ll be fine!”

“And yet, that’s exactly what I’m doing!” Amelia growled, “Tell you what, there’s a prison near Keg Creek, if I’ll make it, I’ll be there in two months,” she said, turning her head quickly to look at the direction of gun fire. It was getting closer.

“No! That’s not an option!”

“Ava, they are killing every single survivor as we are speaking! Do you really think they are just shooting corpses with rapid fire?! If _we_ know how to kill them, _they_ know how to kill them! And it takes one damn shot in the head! Not full-on rapid fire with M4’s! They are containing the threat!” Amelia’s face was pained. She held her hands on Ava’s shoulders as what she had just heard sunk in. 

“What?” 

“They are killing all survivors on this stretch of a road. They can’t afford to be asking questions like ‘are you bit?’ or ‘are you scratched?’! They got to do it. They got their orders. So they’re doing it! Ava, I’m trying to save your ass! No one is going to question me if I’m a Marine, but you… You’re just too civilian to pass as military! Any military! I can’t take that risk! You’re only one I’ve got left!” Amelia explained, nearly crying. And that struck Ava harder than before, because her sister, Amelia Dexter, didn’t cry.

Even if she didn’t understand, or like what she was hearing, Ava had no choice but to agree. She’d never pass as a Marine.

She looked down at her feet, and the back at Amelia’s eyes.

“Keg Creek? Prison?” she repeated slowly.

“Two months. If I’m not there at the end of the third month, I’m gone, built a tombstone or what ever you need to mourn for me but don’t come looking! Got it?!” Amelia nodded.

“Yes,” Ava replied.

“Good,” Amelia replied, she turned to look over her shoulder seeing the soldiers closing in on them. Ava stared at her sister as she ducked into the tent again, and handed a smaller pouch to Ava, “You take this. It’s yours anyways. You were better with it.”

Ava sniffled, and took the bag without a word. 

“I love you, sis,” Amelia said, and hugged Ava quickly and then kissed her forehead, “I will always love you.”

“I love you too,” Ava replied, sobbing out loud.

“Go! NOW!”

Amelia gave a gentle push at Ava and she turned around, heading into the forest behind them. She heard the gunshots getting closer and the panicked screams of people. She also heard the wailing of the wounded and the hollow groans and moans of the dead. All of the sounds blended into one as she kept running through the woods. She saw shadows, and shapes around her but she couldn’t stop, and she knew it.

It was better if she was alone, without having to worry about others. She didn’t want anyone distracting her from getting to the Keg Creek and to that prison.


	4. Watchful Eyes

Ava curled against the tree and stared into the sickly weak flames that were not were near giving enough warmth to hatch a chick. As soon as the sun had set, the cold had crept into her core. It wasn’t cold per say, but the minute she was about to fall asleep, the cold crept all over and engulfed her, her body temperature dropping, leaving her to look for something to cover herself with. Her teeth were chattering, her body trembled and if she’d had a mirror she could guess easily that her lips were turning blue. Ava wrapped her dirty college sweatshirt around her tighter and sighed. She would have to freeze tonight. 

She didn’t have nearly enough clothes with her, and her sleeping bag among other quite important items had been left by the I75. Knowing all too well she would not really sleep tonight she sat up, and crossed her legs, and stared into the flames. Feeling rather resentful of the resent realizations she made a decision that she would have to volunteer for a supply run or make one of her own. She needed a sleeping bag, she needed new clothes and she most definitely could have used a bloody tent.

The chirring of the insects and crackle of the feeble fire were the only sounds around her. She might get a chance to take a nap during the day, maybe on some sunny patch, but what she really needed right now was to have something else to do than sit there and wallow in her own thoughts.

Standing up, she dusted her pants quickly and adjusted her top – the one she had received from the Dixon brothers; she wasn’t sure from which one. She really didn't see Merle Dixon doing something like that for her, but then again his younger brother didn't seem to have fallen too far from the apple tree either. She quickly stretched her arms and heard some of the joints in her back pop. With that, she groaned a little, before leaning over to pick up the bag she had been avoiding for a good while now. 

She made a beeline to Dale’s RV on top of which she spotted T-Dog on guard duty. 

“Hey there, Girl,” he said looking down at her, when she stopped by the van, “Couldn’t sleep?”

“Nah,” Ava shrugged her shoulders and spotted the ladder leading up to the roof, “Mind some company?” 

“Hell no,” T-Dog chuckled and as Ava climbed the ladder, he moved over to help her up on the roof, "Theodore Douglas at your service, ma'am," he said as he pulled Ava up on the roof of the RV.

"What’s in the baggy?” he queried curiously, like a five year old, making Ava chuckle a little, “You’ll see,” she replied, with a smirk. 

She sat down on the roof, leaving the lawn chair for T-Dog, he was after all the one on duty. As the man eyed at her curiously she opened the bag and pulled out several parts needing some assembly. He frowned and stared at them, but said nothing at first. When she picked up a rag from the baggy and some oil, wire and brushes, as well as something that looked like chimney sweepers and multipurpose tool that looked like an old Leatherman, he realized it was a high powered weapon.

“What is that? A gun?” T-Dog asked.

“Mhmm,” Ava murmured as she began scrubbing the barrel. 

“Don’t look like any weapon we got in the camp, Girl,” he replied and turned to look at the road that lead up to their camp from the main road.

“It’s a sniper rifle,” Ava said and almost gently slid the barrel in its place with the handle. T-Dog remained silent and every now and then glanced at the girl at his feet assembling a rifle, while he kept looking at the road and the surroundings. 

“It was a gift from my father,” she began and elicited a nod from T-Dog. 

“Our, my sister and my, mom died when we were young and dad had to take care of us. But, he was this crazy ass, former military, conspiracy theorist who I guess just went a little bit nuts after mom. And both my sister and I were right along with him in the woods shooting cans, melons, oranges, bottles, anything really, with real, honest to God sniper style.”

“It’s a useful skill nowadays, Girl,” T-Dog said and nodded again.

“Well, I hated it. I don’t like guns, I don’t like killing – people, those corpses or animals – but I guess that’s what we got to do now…” Ava said, frowning and her voice less than a whisper.

“It’s all good,” T-Dog said, his palm touching Ava’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Thanks. Then again, I’m not very used to this area. I grew up in Virginia, Maryland, then Kentucky, and Tennessee.”

“Yeah, you don’t really look to be a Georgian girl,” T-Dog chuckled.

“I’ve lived here for a year now – with my sister. She got a job here, and we had to move. And then I got a job, and then this all happened,” Ava sighed.

“Where’d ya work?”

“A weapon shop in Marietta. Three times a week.”

“A girl who doesn’t like guns, working in a weapons shop?” T-Dog asked, and shook his head, sitting down on the lawn chair, watching Ava oil up the parts and carefully sliding them in their correct places.

“What can I say? I was taught by my dad to handle any and all weapons because he was certain that North Korea or Russia or goddamned Canada was going to attack us sooner or later. I’m the best product he ever produced,” Ava said rather sadly.

“What about your sister?”

“She was right there with me. But she put all that in a good use by becoming a marine like our dad was. And then she got a bit testy at one point and got discharged.”

“So, black sheep of the family?” T-Dog asked, referring to Amelia.

“Oh, no. I’m the black sheep. I wasn’t born a boy.”

* * *

It took about half an hour for Ava to clean and assemble the weapon. When she was done, she attached the shoulder strap and reached for the baggy. She pulled out a scope and a small box of ammunition. There wasn’t many left. That was about the only amount they had been able to grab when Amelia and Ava had been forced to run from their home. She sighed again, and placed the assembled weapon on the roof of the RV and stood up. T-Dog was looking at the road further away and cursed suddenly.

“What is it?” Ava asked alerted.

“I can’t tell,” he grumbled, “It’s too far away for me to make out with these,” he added, pointing at the binoculars he had on his hands. They were pretty good binoculars, Ava could tell, but in the dark they weren’t very useful. 

Ava bit her cheek and reached for the rifle, and looked for a confirmation from T-Dog as to which direction to search. 

“What are you doing? You’re going to alert every walker from miles!” he hissed quickly and slapped the barrel of the weapon down.

“It’s got a night scope, genius,” Ava sighed and could have sworn that the man blushed, when he mumbled, “Oh,” as a reply.

“Hold on, it’s that way, just under the tree line,” T-Dog then said, guiding her to find the right spot he’d seen movement around, and pointed down the slope, towards a forest that took place between the quarry and the skyline of the City of Atlanta.

Ava lifted the weapon on her shoulder and propped it against it. She adjusted the scope, until she could see the tree line better. If there had been movement, it was all still now. She couldn’t see anything. 

“I can’t see shit,” Ava grumbled, and shifted the weapon to sweep across the whole edge of the forest. 

“Damn,” T-Dog hissed, “Couldn’t tell if it was a human, animal, walker or what ever.”

“It could have been just some animal,” Ava shrugged her shoulders, lowering down the rifle, “But we better keep an eye open, you never know,” she added winking at T-Dog.

“We?” he asked, incredulously, arching an eyebrow at the young girl.

“I can’t sleep, I’ve got a night scope,” she said, sternly, and kicked the stand of the rifle on, as she laid the weapon on the roof of the RV. She threw her legs over the edge, and then moved to detach the scope. With that, she lifted it up to her eye and began to make another sweep across the opening view.

“Perfect,” T-Dog chuckled and turned to the other way with his binoculars. 

* * *

At dawn the Dixon brothers were the first ones to wake up. At some point during the night T-Dog had fallen asleep, but Ava couldn’t sleep, and she had stayed awake, and on guard. She spotted the two crawling out of their tent when the sun began rising. First one to emerge was Daryl Dixon and his crossbow. She looked at the younger brother and nodded, only to receive a scowl from him as a reply. The older Dixon winked at her and she had to roll her eyes. She heard the man chortling with laughter, and then witnessed him slapping his younger brother in the back, making him wince at the contact.

She frowned, instantly recognizing the signs that usually were shown by beaten and battered wives and girlfriends she’d had to see at the store with their men. She glared at the older Dixon, but didn’t see the same gleam in his eyes that those men sported, figuring that it had never been the older Dixon to beat the younger one. She was still staring at the two, completely immersed in her own thoughts, when she heard someone bark something to her.

“What’chu stare at?” she heard familiar growl next to the RV and looked down at the man, with blue eyes, sleeveless shirt, brown cargo pants and a crossbow strapped onto his back. 

“Nothing,” Ava shook her head and smiled a little. Daryl Dixon narrowed his eyes, stared at the girl and then spotted the weapon next to her, his eyes growing big at the sight, but he said nothing. He reduced into the state of silence immediately and shook his head, heading out to the woods. 

“Ya been up there all night?” 

Ava turned to look down again and saw Shane standing on the ground looking up at her and now sleeping T-Dog.

“I wasn't sleepy,” Ava said, “And I've got a night scope.”

“Now where the hell does a pretty girl like you get a night scope from?” he asked chuckling with pretense.

“From my father,” Ava replied, and patted the sniper rifle next to her. Shane’s eyes followed her hand to the weapon and then narrowed. Ava’s stomach clenched when she realized that he might actually try to take the gun away from her. 

“Ya sure ya can use something as big as that?” he chuckled, and tucked a thumb under belt loop of his cargo pants. 

“I’m definite,” Ava replied narrowing her eyes at the man, picking the firearm up, and swung it around her shoulders before leaning to pick up the supplies she had packed back into the baggy.

“That’s a mighty big weapon for an awfully lil’ girl,” he said, taking a step towards the RV. Ava stared at the man. She had seen that same look on people before, and that was before the apocalypse. That look was something she hated in men, and now it was even more dangerous than it had been before. If you didn't know how to defend yourself, that look was certain to end your life. And she had seen that look on Shane as well as on Merle Dixon.

“Yeah,” Ava hissed, “I've been trained to use this.”

Without giving any more explanations, she descended down from the roof of the RV and walked briskly back to where she had left her backpack. She knew she’d be hopelessly outnumbered if Shane really wanted her to hand over the weapon, but also, she wasn’t planning on staying with the group much longer. She figured out that this incident already was the last straw to it. 

“Where’s Lil’ Titty Queen goin’?” Merle’s voice asked from behind Ava. When she turned to look at the older redneck, he was standing there, holding his hand onto his belt and wiggling his tongue slightly out of his mouth. Ava shuddered and stared down at the man.

“Quit calling me that,” she hissed, and swung the backpack onto her back and picked up the rifle from the ground again. 

“Goin’ sum’where? Huntin’?” he ignored her jab and kept throwing questions at her.

“What’s it to you? Huh?” Ava growled.

“Lil’ itty bitty princesses shouldn’t be out there all alone, ya know m’sayin’?”

Ava scowled at the older man and made him laugh, “M’brudder does that one better. Ya oughta take sum lessons,” he said, squatting down and looking at Ava with a gleam in his eyes. 

“What do you want, Dixon?”

“Wanna warn ya lil’ doll,” he said, with a low voice, just like her father used to use, when he was going to divulge some information that wasn’t necessarily any good, “Better watch out for the copper.”

“Thanks, I already got the memo on that one,” she said, and looked at the man eyes narrowing, "But I don't know _you_ or _him_ well enough to determine which one is telling the truth."

“How about ya come with’s to the city. We goin’ on a run for sum supplies. We could get ta know each other a bit bettah.”

Ava rolled her eyes. She hated the way Merle Dixon spoke to her, but at least he wasn’t hard to interpret what he was after. Also, she had grown up with men like that all around her and most of the time they were just big hoot about things but knew better than to argue against a forceful ‘no’. She wasn’t sure, though, if she believed her gut feeling that this man would probably never try to cross that line with her. 

“Who’s going with?”


	5. Going To Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going on a run into Atlanta.

Following Glenn from the quarry to the City of Atlanta didn’t feel natural at all to Ava. She could have gone there alone. She should have done this alone. But, somehow the group was determined that no one would go out alone anymore, and when Merle Dixon had invited her to tag along, she wasn’t even sure had she thought to tell them ‘no’.

Walking the distance in 140 degree heat and dodging corpses took its toll on them all and it didn’t take too long for Merle to start to bicker with T-Dog and Morales, and a while later dragged Glenn into the mess too.

Ava cringed, and tried not to listen to the men arguing. She was almost definite that every single dead corpse walking the earth right now could hear them, and they were on their way to have a feast over their screaming bodies. 

After an hour of dreary trudging, Andrea and Jacqui tried to start a conversation with Ava, asking where she was from and how had she ended up in Georgia. Answering the best she could without sounding evasive or off-putting, she tried her best to filter out the heat that was attacking her body, and the sounds of the group and eventually all the questions directed at her. Soon both Andrea and Jacqui left her be, and instead hurried to catch up with Glenn. Ava was certain that she had now gained a stamp of being weird. 

She had tried to look less conspicuous by leaving most of the tattered clothes at the camp for washing. When Shane had inquired her about the backpack, she had told him that the reason for taking it with her was that she was planning on finding new clothes for herself, and a sleeping bag as well as a tent; telling that she couldn’t prance around half naked, despite having the clothes cleaned. 

That, of course, had elicited some pretty lewd comments from Merle, before he’d said that he wouldn’t mind at all if Ava was prancing around him all naked. A scowl from Ava had silenced him, but still he had muttered something from underneath his breath.

The younger Dixon had just glared at her for a while, before he’d told that he was going hunting instead of opting to go with them on the run. Ava had witnessed a peculiar, hushed conversation between the two brothers and she’d even seen how the younger one looked angry at his older brother. What ever that was, had gone unnoticed by rest of the group.

She had also taken her rifle with her. She knew this trip would take her either way; leave the group and make it on her own to find Amelia, or return with the group and possibly miss out on Amelia at the prison all together. But first she needed supplies, and she wasn’t going to take them from the camp that had practically less than nothing as it was.

When the small band of people made their way to the edge of the City after a long and tiresome walk from the quarry Glenn guided them to the chain link fence that was separating the sticks from the old train yard. At the fence, he turned around and tried to sound convincing when he said, “Look, I’d feel so much better if I did this alone,” but his voice cracked and he avoided from looking anyone in the eye. Ava bit her cheek, and refrained from uttering out anything. She could have done this alone, too. She could have left the group with honesty, at least. 

“Nuh-uh,” Morales shook his head quickly, his hand lifted up as a rejection, “We came here for a reason. We need supplies, and we need more than you can carry on your own.”

“Are we gonna do sum’thin’ or a’we gonna braid each others hair,” Merle barked, and let his hand run over the shaved head of his. Ava arched an eyebrow at him, and he winked at the girl, who actually thought that was funny, but hid her smirk by turning to look to the other direction. She didn’t want to encourage the redneck anymore than he already felt encouraged. But despite all the sexist and infuriating comments and the racist behavior Ava was far less self-conscious around Merle Dixon. Neither of the Dixon brothers was anything but what you could see. Merle would sell your soul for you if given the chance, but Daryl expected honesty. She furrowed her brow thinking about them and then quickly shook her head. She couldn’t – for the life of her – understand why she had allowed the duo to crawl under her skin so quickly.

Glenn sighed, and crouched down and quickly made his way to the previously cut gap on the chain link, that was reclosed with some wiring. Glenn moved to open the wire, and then pulled the opening wider allowing Morales and Jacqui crawl through it. Next was Merle and after him went Andrea. When Glenn made motion for Ava to crawl through the opening, she hesitated a moment, before kneeling down and wiggling through. Glenn quickly followed, but instead of closing the gap completely, he masked it to look like it was closed, “We may have to make a quick exit,” he said, and looked at Ava, who was looking at his work incredulously. 

Ava nodded and flipped his rifle around to the front, and took the safety off. If it had not been the endless weeks and months of trotting about the mountains and woods and hunting trails with her father the weapon would have been too heavy to carry, but she was used to the weight and found it oddly comforting. 

She quickly checked the magazine and sighed after realizing it was half empty, and then shifting it from automatic to manual. 

“This way,” she then heard Glenn whisper and wave his hand, “There’s a department store this way.”

The group followed Glenn as he started down the street. There were few corpses shuffling in the distance, probably had not noticed them yet, but they would. They always did. Ava took a better hold of her rifle and lifted it to her shoulder, only to check through the scope at the walkers in the distance. As much as she had been shooting in her life, as much as her father had drilled the survival skills, and weapons training and conspiracy theories into her mind she still hated to fire a weapon. Even when it was necessary.

In earlier life, it had not been a problem. Only when her father had insisted on taking both of the sisters to shoot some cans, she had obliged. Even when she was selling weapons to hunters, who had been suggesting all kinds of things, she had not fired a weapon. But, now, in this life, it seemed to be every day normal.

Ava followed the group at the back, and sighed. She just had to find the gut to take off on her own sooner rather than later. But first she needed to do some serious looting and find her some clothes, and certain useful items that would come handy. There still was a chance – after some two months – that there were things to find in the stores of the city. She knew they definitely weren’t the only group to try and find food and other things from the city, but there also weren’t that many people that could pull this off without getting killed. 

The streets were littered with leaves, pieces of paper, anything that was light enough for the wind to toss around. There were abandoned cars, and crashed cars, amidst the emergency vehicles and some police cars. There was police tape fluttering about the wind and several traffic fences that had been knocked over. 

“Oh, God,” Jacqui gasped, when she saw the first dead body; truly dead that is, half eaten and decaying. 

“Come on, we got to get out of the street,” Andrea said, placing her arms around Jacqui’s shoulders and pulling her to the other direction. Ava on the other hand stopped, and stared at the grotesque display. She remembered the night they had passed the city and the military was starting to take over, panicking and discarding everything they were there for. 

“Ya saw ‘em, didn’tcha?” Merle asked all of a sudden, sounding nothing like himself.

“Droppin’ napalm? Yes,” Ava replied, clutching the rifle harder. Her palms were growing sweaty.

“Me and Daryl, we saw it too.”

Ava turned to look at the older man, and saw his fingers clenched in tight fists, and his whole essence shaking out of anger. 

“They weren’t going to protect the civilian population anyways,” Ava whispered and sighed as she walked past him, quickly following rest of the group up the street. She was slowly starting to believe into all of the theories her father had been telling them. Up until now she had tried to stay away from them. She had listened to them, and she had always remained impartial amidst the arguments between her sister and her father. Even when the town Sheriff was there to solve the public display of indecency or the fighting accusations that were done almost all the time in some drunken stupor, she had remained silent. 

“I hear ya, Tiny,” Merle replied and followed Ava.

* * *

“There’s a sporting goods store over there,” Ava whispered, “I need a sleeping bag and a tent!”

They were grouched down behind a stripped down car, and watched over some sand bags and metal traffic fences, only to see four corpses hovering and swaying on the street. They were still trying to make a plan how to get past them, and into the department store that Glenn had been systematically emptying one or two things a time for the past few weeks. They knew they couldn’t draw attention to themselves or they would most definitely be swarmed. Just because there were only four of those dead things around, didn’t mean there wasn’t four hundred behind the corner ready to eat them alive. 

“What? No, we’re supposed to go to the department store!” Glenn hissed and was quickly supported by Morales, who nodded vigorously.

“Ya don’ need those, Tiny,” Merle cackled, and licked his lips, “Ya can sleep with me at any time!” he added and made a lewd expression. Ava glared at him, shifting, and deliberately moving the barrel of her rifle to point at the redneck, “And I told you before, I ain’t gonna touch that thought with a ten foot pole!” she barked back, “And I’m not going to keep freezing either during nights because you think I can’t handle it! I know where all ya’ll going and I’ll be there in a quick second!”

“We can’t get separated!” Andrea insisted, turning to look at the brunette, and shook her head determined to get the younger woman to follow them.

“I can take care of myself, but if we keep arguing about this on this street our chances of making out alive are pretty much shot to shit!” Ava whispered, “I’m going to get me a sleeping bag and a tent! It takes two minutes. You get in there,” she said, and pointed at the department store’s door, “And I’ll follow after I’m done.” 

“There might be sleeping bags in the store there,” Jacqui interrupted and Glenn shot a hopeful glance at Ava.

“Have you seen any in there, Glenn?” Ava retorted, knowing that if there was any, Glenn would have interjected with that.

The Asian boy got flustered quickly and shook his head, as he tried to stammer an answer out loud.

“Then, stop arguing,” Ava said, and shifted behind the group, circling around the car and running across the street without being seen by the corpses. Glenn and Morales exchanged a quick look, but then turned to face the others and ushered them towards the department store worried sick that Ava might not make it back.

* * *

Ava hurried into the sporting goods store quickly. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder and saw the rest of the group heading grouched down towards the department store. 

She pushed the door open and nearly jumped out of her skin when there was a sudden jingle of a bell. She spun around and saw a chain of small bells hanging just above the door, making her curse out loud for her carelessness. Most stores used electric devices announcing people if there were only certain amount of people working, but this place was too low tech for their own good and she prayed wildly that there were no corpses roaming the store. 

She stood there for a while, but when she saw no movement or heard any sounds other than her faster than normally breathing, she decided to advance into the store. Ava was almost certain, and hence knew it, that the place was ransacked and looted, but hoped to find at least something she could use. 

She moved along the walls, making sure every corner and possible hiding place was secure before moving forward and deeper into the store, and letting her gaze wander around. There were shirts and some warmer coats and pants. Clothes never seemed to be on top of the list for the people who had smashed the glass of the door and then raided the store. 

She shed the backpack from her shoulders and knelt down on the floor to check up on the shirts splayed around. She knew she had slim to none chances to find her size, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Just as she thought she couldn’t find her size, but instead chose four flannel shirts off the rack, and four short sleeved cotton T shirts in closest possible size. Color wise the selection was poor, but she wasn’t about to run a fashion show. She picked up six sleeveless tops in white and black, and frowned at the pile of shirts she already had gathered, but knowing the heat in Georgia would have her sweat like a pig and considering that with every walker kill there was gunk all over her clothes, and washing options had been reduced to creeks and small ponds instead of 24/7 Laundromats she was entitled to take as much as she could carry. She moved over to the pants and jackets and chose four pairs of pants and two pairs of shorts and decided to fix them to a better fit when she had enough time. She was glad she still had her leather belt. 

She frowned at the selection of clothing but reminded herself that there would be fall and winter coming around the corner and if it was anything like the previous winter, she’d freeze to death without enough clothes. Looking at the selection of jackets she had to sneer. They all were too big and mostly for men, but she had to choose one and picked up one dark green with removable black lining. It too was too big, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Her bag was getting stuffed but she didn’t mind. She found a hot pink colored metallic water bottle on the floor and picked it up. Truthfully, she could have chosen any other color, but the pink one would have to do, knowing that she definitely needed a water bottle of her own. 

“Socks,” she mumbled out loud and moved to gather four pairs of socks. With the socks in her hands she moved closer to the register and screeched out of delight when she found that there still were few hunting knives still in the display. Picking up one that was probably too big for her but came with a sheath she quickly tossed it in her bag. 

Last but not least, she finally found the section that held sleeping bags. There were still few of them lying about and she went to look for the best one. After realizing there were only children’s and adult’s double sized sleeping bags still in the store she chose the one which she considered being the smallest double wide bag, and tucked it under her arm. 

She sighed and figured the things that she had gathered should be enough for now. At least, she had some clean clothes, sleeping bag and a tent. It would be easier now to make her way to the prison Amelia had been talking about.


	6. The Odd Couple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merle being Merle. He's got delusions of grandeur of being God's gift to female population, but I still miss him.

“Dixon, you fucker!” Ava screamed out loud, but instantly regretting it the second she heard the growls and moans of the corpses increasing outside the building they had been holed up for a while now. She kicked the empty bottle of Jack on the ground and then stomped up to her companion who had passed out on guard, after finishing the whiskey. She wasn’t sure where he had found the stuff, because he had not been out of the crumbling building since they had made their camp in it. 

“Yea, Sugar Tits, ya know it,” Merle Dixon grumbled under his breath, trying to filter out the shrill sound that was Ava. He tried to sound brazen and bold, but instead his voice was reduced into faint groan if displeasure. As he shifted, sitting up, he groaned out loud from the sudden jolt of pain that quickly coursed through him, from his severed hand.

“Suits you right you stupid, simple minded idiot! Who, I ask you, is so stupid that they get drunk and pass out, while on guard in the middle of an apocalypse?” she screeched, “Oh, teacher, teacher! Me, me! I know the answer!” she then added pretending to signal the imaginary teacher to pick her to answer her rhetorical question.

“Shut up, bitch!” 

“Asshole,” Ava sighed in return and shook her head, “Let me see the hand. I need to change the bandage.”

She kneeled down next to the man she was forced to partner up for the time being. 

Ava had found Merle Dixon staggering away down the road, being followed by a dozen or more corpses. She hadn’t had enough time to ask questions as why to his hand had been severed, and why he was alone, and where the hell was the rest of the group she had just abandoned in order to find her sister. Even though he had used a tourniquet and cauterized the stump he was slowly growing weaker and weaker. Shock had set in because the man had let her help without any complaints and Ava was almost certain that the risk of infection was higher than normally.

She had wished over and over again for the past two weeks that she had not stopped to help him, but being alone was a poor option and out of the two evils this was the least. 

Because the number one definitely was the loneliest number in the world.

Merle Dixon straightened his right arm out and grumbled something at Ava. He kept staring at the woman carefully unwrap the stump that used to be his hand, and then pick up a rag and start to wash the jagged cut. She frowned at the sight of the wound. Merle had cut his hand off with a rusty and quite possibly at least somewhat dull saw. Not having medical assistance available in the apocalypse was definitely becoming an issue the longer it was going on. Only Ava didn’t think the there was a snowball’s chance in hell that there was an answer for this situation. She was certain that this was as good as it would get. 

She rewrapped the stump and tied the bandages securely before she looked up at Merle.

“We are going to need more clean bandages, some antiseptics and if we are really lucky I could try and find you a tetanus shot,” she sighed. 

“Fuck that, Tiny,” Merle barked and clambered up, his legs wobbly for a moment, before he regained his balance, “I ain’t goin’ to make myself an experimental pincushion for ya to enjoy!”

“Trust me, Dixon, I wouldn’t enjoy it at all. But remember this, I’m going to dump your ass the minute you start showing any symptoms of tetanus or you start to reek of gangrene.”

Merle stared at her eyes wide, and for once in his life speechless out of the way a woman as talking to him. He was still puzzled of why she’d helped him out. She could have left his ass to get torn in pieces, but she didn’t; that being a dilemma that the older Dixon wanted to know the answer to, but was too butch to actually ask about.

There wasn’t even a debate whether or not they should return to the quarry camp or not. Ava was reluctant to return to the camp, and Merle Dixon knew better than that to return. Only thing he felt sorry for and kept drinking over it was that he’d left his brother like that. The first four nights it had been nothing but drinks and complaining about how he knew his brother would be fine and how he was sorry he’d left him at that group.

“Daryl’s a good boy, ya know, Tiny?” he’d slurred, heavily drunk, on one night they were camped outside an old power station. 

Ava had kept her mouth shut, because he’d been drunk and in pain, and he kept reminiscing their old life, and feeling sorry for himself. Actually, she was rather shocked to learn what had been going on at the Dixon house when the brothers were growing up. Somehow she now understood why the younger Dixon had been reluctant to talk. 

It had never been like that for her. Their father hadn’t been a drunk, not really. He’d drink, of course, but he’d been such a lousy drunk that he’d almost every time passed out after few drinks. He’d loved them unconditionally, even though he’d felt little betrayed by the fact that neither of them weren’t born as boys and sometimes even showed his disappointment to the sisters. 

“Fine,” Merle barked bringing Ava back from her thoughts, “Ya find me a shot or what ever. Those pussies’ve cleaned every pharmacy from ‘re to Canada!” 

“We can always try,” Ava said, glaring down at the man sitting on the ground, “Wouldn’t kill you to have a little faith, you know?”

* * *

They broke into an emergency room couple of days later. Merle was running a fever and Ava was almost certain that he’d die on her hands. 

He’d collapsed the day before. Leaving him to rest at moderately secure location, she’d scouted out the area and found the emergency room not too far away. Of course, like everything else, it had been looted among the first places, of that she was certain, but there might still be something useful inside. 

So she had returned to get Dixon.

She helped him inside, and dragged him into an examination room. The whole waiting room was a mess. All the chairs and tables were tossed around, papers littered the floor and all the plants had died a while back. 

“Get on the bed,” Ava ordered, when she got Merle inside of the room. He was clinging onto her, but let go of her shoulders when she dragged him to the bed. Leaving him to hover and wobble and manage to climb on the bed by himself. She began to search the cabinets and drawers in a mission to find what they were in desperate need of.

Merle chuckled to himself, while rolling on the bed, and crashing down hard, groaning from the feeling of being vertical on something that wasn’t concrete floor. 

“Yeah, Sugar Tits, I knew ya’d wanna take a ride on Big Ol’ Merle Machine,” he slurred and laughed. Ava rolled her eyes. She’d learned to filter most of what he said, and this wasn’t an exception. He’d been at this for quite some time now, though, and it was growing to be weary. She refrained from saying anything out loud, and instead hoped to find something to knock the man out while she would see if there was anything to be done with the hand. She needed to clean the wound better. She’d already found some saline and some antiseptics, and well knowing that the man had a bigger mouth than brains – she thought – he’d complain the whole time if he was awake.

“C’mon, hop aboard!” Merle chuckled, and grinding his hips before he slapped his thigh, as he eyed at Ava.

“Shut the hell up, Merle!” Ava whispered, “Do you want to attract every single corpse over here?!”

“Bet ya moanin’ does it bettah!” he said, and kept looking at the girl.

He loved the figure on the brunette.

He was sure that every man who had seen her loved the figure on her. Nice, young and curvy, and wild even, and what it was worth, Merle Dixon was ready to bet his life that she was a good fuck. But he was almost sure, too, that if she would completely lose her marbles, and say ‘yes’ to his pretentious advances he’d have to say no. 

She was practically still a child. He could have been her father. He was twice her age!

And even if he was a drug seller, with a penchant to use the merchandise and drink way too much, he’d gotten into his fair share of fights and been to jail for certain amount of crimes, he was no rapist. 

“Ah, found it!” Ava exclaimed out loud and placed a sterile package on the counter.

“Ya found what?”

“A needle, for the tetanus shot. I just hope this’ll help. And I found some antibiotics as well. No painkillers, though, but I think it’s best if you don’t start mixing and matching booze and pills. I’m not going to drag your ass any more than I already am!”

Merle laughed, and then coughed.

“C’mon then, give it to ol’ Merle,” he said and stuck his arm out.

Ava quickly stuck the needle into Merle’s arm and injected the tetanus shot first. Considering she had no clue whatsoever how much to give to an adult male, this was more or less just a gamble. She handed some of the antibiotics to him as well and told him to take them quickly. 

“I think we can stay here for tonight,” she sighed and looked around the sterile room. It was dark and murky but at least it was indoors.

“Y’sure,” Merle grumbled, and lied back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

“I’ll make a quick sweep around, you stay here,” Ava told at him, and dropped her backpack on the floor. 

“Hey,” Merle called after her, “Ya be careful now, a’ight?” 

* * *

At midnight Merle woke up feeling groggy and disoriented at first, but then remembering where he was. When he looked around himself, he saw they were still in the same examination room, and then he saw Ava standing by the window, looking outside.

She held her rifle tightly against her chest, her eyes locked onto something that she had spotted. She too fixated onto that something to realize that he’d woken up. So, not to make too much noise, Merle smacked his lips to gain her attention and when she looked at him, he bobbed his head towards the window.

‘Just some corpses’, she mouthed at him, but there was something else as well, which she wasn’t all that sure about. 

“Ya sure about that, Tiny?” Merle asked, as he shifted on the bed, and threw his legs over the edge, before sliding down onto his wobbly feet. 

“I saw something earlier, but I couldn’t figure out what it was,” she shrugged, “Couldn’t make it out from here.”

“Have ya slept?” he asked suddenly, quickly scolding himself for going soft over this girl. But she had helped him, and it may have been his military training or the fact that she actually was less annoying than most women he’d laid eyes on, and that she reminded him of Daryl in some ways, but he was growing fond of her. Something that she didn’t need to know.

“No,” she shook her head, eyes still trained on the trees outside of the emergency room.

“So, it’s my turn to take watch,” Merle grumbled.

“Oh, no,” Ava shook her head, “I’m sure you got a bottle stashed somewhere and you get pissed and what ever that thing outside was, is going to come in here and either eat us alive, or slash our throats!” she fumed.

“Ya jus’ gonna exhaust yourself,” Merle barked back, “I ain’t got no bottles no more.”

She glared at him. 

“We’re stuck together, even if ya don’ like it!” Merle hissed finally when she didn’t say anything. 

“And you’re the one who is going to get us killed,” she hissed back, “But I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself.”

With that, she swung her rifle over her head and placed it next to her backpack, before sitting down on the floor in the corner between the wall and some cabinets. She looked up at Merle who nodded.

“Hey, you ain’t so bad company once you stop being a dick,” she said then, “But if you screw this thing up, I’m going to cut off the other hand.”

Merle chuckled at that and turned to look out of the window, thinking that she had completely stolen the words out of his mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think!


End file.
